Susie
by chuxter
Summary: Patrick's wife and daughter had been dead for years, so long, in fact, that his daughter would be fifteen now, so imagine his shock when he woke up to find his wife sitting at the end of his bed talking about his OTHER daughter. not AU. poss Lisbon/Jane.x
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is my first Mentalist fic and I haven't been watching t long so please be gentle :3**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy..**

**xx**

'_Patrick, wake up! Patrick!' her voice fluttered down, full of laughter and joy._

_'Wha? What's the __matter?' he rolled to his side, morning vision ever so slightly blurred by the sun, he tried to focus on the time._

As he rose from the bed everything snapped sharply into focus, his wife, he had heard her voice!

He leaned forward, clutching the back of his head, trying to block out the flood of memories, to suffocate the rising sob that was caught in his throat, a slow moan escaped his drooped lips instead, the wolf's last howl at the moon it couldn't reach, a bitter sting momentarily numbed his heart and for a moment he was tempted to give in, but today was, as any other, a fruitful escape from the horrors of the past, staying here would only make things worse.

He straightened again, after a quick prep talk in his mind and there she was, in full magnificence; his wife, her face pale and sincere, this... this was not a dream.

'Patrick, you have to find her.'

"What?"

'You have to find her Patrick!'

"Who? Why are you here? I.." He cut himself off, he was talking to a dream, this was pointless.

'Our daughter Patrick, find her!' she urged, her voice bordering on desperation, her eyes full of fear and shame, why shame?

"Our daughter is dead, she.." His eyes stung and he stopped, he knew he should have shut the window last night, damn hay-fever; he decided it was best not to face the real reason of those tears, it would only lead to more.

'No Patrick!' she almost scolded, fear large in her eyes, _'the other one..' _she whispered, as the strange apparition disappeared.

**Hope you enjoyed, I tend to upload in bouts so more on the way! **

**xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, this is the second chappy, obviously.**

**Enjoy xx**

Lisbon was later than usual, so Jane had had plenty of time to replace all of her files with brightly painted table tennis (or ping-pong) balls, he had filled all her drawers and cabinets to the brim and her files were hidden in various places, like a little easter egg hunt, specially designed for Lisbon, he hoped she would appreciate it.

This is what he liked to do when he'd had a bad night, he liked to watch her reaction and, to be quite honest, a part of him enjoyed it when she shouted at him, though he wouldn't tell her that, instead he would make suggestions of different types of body language she could use to convey her feelings.

As she walked in he closed his eyes, full stretch on the couch with a smug grin on his lips, he could feel her eyeing him suspiciously and he started a subconscious countdown.

_5_

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

"JANE! Get in here now!"

* * *

"My _files_ Jane!" she almost looked surprised but she had grown used to this by now, "Where are they?"

"I set out an Easter Hunt just for you." he said, with a small grin, indicating slightly toward her "I knew you'd like it."

"Like it?" She gasped, flustered, "_Like _it!?"

"It's a surprise." He stated, as if that explained all away.

"_And__?_"

"You like surprises." He said as he turned to leave, stopping at the door and turning again, but whatever he thought, whatever he was about to say, it froze solid in his throat, just like his breath.

'You're ignoring me Patrick.' It was his wife 'Patrick!'

He didn't even see Lisbon's expectant stare turn to stale confusion, she looked over her shoulder, nothing, "Jane!" she said, "Are you gonna say something or are just gonna get out of here cos I don't have time for your mind games?"

His eyes fluttered and came back into focus, his mouth slightly agape, "Sorry." he said, simply, then left the office, shutting the door gently behind him.

_Okay _Lisbon thought _Unless he's playing around then something here is DEFINITELY wrong._

She thought for a moment about going after him, but she promptly changed her mind, and started hunting for her files, chasing him would come over as too 'worried housewife' and making him collect her files would only serve to make her feel guilty as it was clear memories were haunting him again.

She sighed as she found the first file, wishing she could see people's inner-most worries and wants like he did.

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**xx**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey I would like to thank Sophie Fatale and Igmtreader for +story alerts and Madaboutthementalist, and cureless for +story alerts and reviews.

Also I would like to thank Madaboutthementalist for their enthusiasm, reviews like that help re-inspire me, ta!

xx

The afternoon of table tennis day:

As she pulled the last file out from underneath one of the pillows on Jane's couch (while, of course, he lay on it) she decided this was a step too far, he couldn't just get away with this.

One problem, she didn't want to take it to Minelli; it would only complicate things and, truth be told, a part of her was glad that Jane had managed to re-find his spark for life, she felt getting him in trouble for it, no matter how annoying he was, would only put that spark out before it could become a flame again.

Then an idea hit her in the head so hard she swore she almost got a bruise. Genius! Pure genius! Why hadn't she thought of this before?

Oh, she would get him back, she thought, him and his little couch too.

She suppressed an evil cackle, already feeling a little too much like the witch from the wizard of Oz.

* * *

Jane watched her pull the file from beneath him, a smug grin on his face, "Want some help with that?" he asked with a hundred watt grin.

However, the comment was wasted on her, she had stopped and was now looking absentmindedly at the couch, dark thoughts clouding her features, he watched the thoughts develop and change and noted, with some anxiety, a look of sadistic glee spread across her features as the episode finished.

Then she stood, returning the file to her office and the appropriate filing cabinet without so much as an irritable sigh toward him.

* * *

The next morning, 7.30 AM:

The phone was ringing, he groaned and rolled out of bed, making a mental not about the sound of his own body thudding onto the floor; he would probably feel that later.

He grasped the phone with both hands, blinking at the blurred screen as he tried to get into focus.

"Hello?" He asked, as if there might be no one there, after all, who woke up that early on the weekend?

"Jane." It as Lisbon, of course.

"Why?" he exclaimed, his voice taking on the moan of a four year old boy asked to give up his favourite sports kit.

"There's been an accident." She stated.

"What?" he croaked out slowly, and without lack of effort.

"A fire." She kept it simple, she could hear he was tired.

"Your house?" He asked, eyes opening just a little wider.

"No."

"A case." he stated, relaxing.

"No."

"Headquarters?"

"Not exactly." she sounded tried by his questions, as if the answer was difficult.

"What then?" he asked, already dreading the answer, a million possibilities launched into his head.

"Uhm, well.. It's your couch, it's gone Jane, burnt to a cinder."

"What? No!" He cried, launching himself from the floor and into the bathroom, not paying Lisbon heed as she tried to calm him.

Within half an hour he was arriving at the Headquarters, the lift had broken so he legged it up the stairs instead, slamming into the bullpen, Lisbon was there, so was a small black rectangle where his beloved had been.

He looked at Lisbon, about to ask who had done it when he noticed a small flicker of amusement pass over her face, she was holding a stopwatch and other members of the team were peeking through her office blinds, grinning, even Cho was struggling to conceal his delight at the situation.

"Where is it?" Jane asked, still quite breathless, his gaze flitted back to Lisbon.

"Minelli's office." She stated, "It's been confiscated Jane."

"Why?" He bent over gasping, the childish whine back in his voice.

"No more games Jane, you do as your told you get your toys and pass-times back." she stated.

He openly whined and rolled onto the floor, lying where his couch had once been.

It took him a moment to register the fact his wife was down there with him.

He stood and walked toward the door, a hasty retreat.

"PATRICK JANE DON'T YOU EVEN THINK OF TAKING ANOTHER STEP" Her voice boomed, in a flash she appeared before him, hands on hips, "She's in England." his wife stated, his wife stated, he thought it through in his mind, his wife.

"You're dead." he murmured, "This isn't true."

"Don't you dare block me out." She replied, a look of warning in her eye.

Lisbon had noted this sudden change, "Right, everybody out, Jane, my office, now."

He took a while to zone out of whatever was bothering him, "It's the weekend." he stated.

"Now!" Lisbon ordered.

* * *

He slumped onto a chair, head cradled in his hands, as she seated herself before him.

She sighed, it was too formal, she guessed she would have to be his friend this time.

She stood, moving her chair round till she was so close their knees were touching, then leaned forward and took his right hand from his head.

"Jane." she started, "Talk to me." A simple statement that still managed to convey more than any lengthy speech.

"Just, talk to me." she said again, gently, he had to relax, she may not be a mentalist but she knew how to deal with little boys who were hurting and men were much the same.

He sighed, gathering his thoughts and willing himself strength.

"I'm being haunted by my wife." He almost sobbed, "She says we had another child, a little girl, in England."

That enough could get him sure into mental hospital.. again.

"Jane it's in your head.."

"No."

"Listen to me, Jane just listen, this whole thing is wishful thinking."

"No! Why?" he whined.

"You miss your daughter Jane, you want a child to love again, it's perfectly natural, just, well, most people don't see things, people, that aren't really there when feeling confused and upset like that."

He looked at her the sobs shaking his shoulders, "You think I'm paranoid schizophrenic." It was not a question.

"Jane.." Lisbon tried to speak but was cut off.

"I can see her, right now, she's in the corner, she's saying not to listen.

Lisbon was about to speak, to argue, when a coffee cup flew from the corner of the room and smashed through her office window, lisbon stared, lips parted, her glance slowly returning to patrick, she withdrew her hand, in a state of utter shock.

"I understand." She said, her eyes glazed with shock, but not disbelief, "What can I do to help?"

Thanks for still reading guys, that has to be a good sign.. I hope?

;D

Hope you enjoyed.

Reba

xx


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